How shall I know
that you are God,
my Lord and Master,
Judgment in your right hand
And mercy on your lips?
How shall I know
that I am home,
that I will be gathered,
be beloved,
be returned?
Will I know You by my enemies,
by their decimation and ruin?
Is that Your glory, Lord,
Your secret name?
Are You the eternal Lord of Hosts,
battle-ready, all iron and stone -
My Rock,
My Redeemer -
Is there yet no give in You?
How shall I know You, God?
What shall I call You?
How will I know I am home?
Based, with a twist, on Ezekiel 28:25 - 29:10, the haftara for parashat Vaera
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
Thursday, January 3, 2019
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1 comment:
That is the question.
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